


salt and honey

by neonheartbeat



Series: Filled Prompts [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Boundaries, Crying, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Forehead Touching, Gentle Sex, Kissing, Kylo Ren has a heart, Making Out, Polis Massa, Premature Ejaculation, Rey is Not a Virgin, Sarcasm, Sex, Sharing a Bed, Surprise nudity, Teasing, Touch-Starved, Vaginal Fingering, Virgin Kylo Ren, body fluids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-22
Updated: 2018-09-22
Packaged: 2019-07-15 12:21:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16063064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neonheartbeat/pseuds/neonheartbeat
Summary: "I didn't kill Snoke to take his place," Kylo said. "I killed him for you."Rey paused at that, her hands still in the crate of dehydrated rations. "I don't care," she told him, and shoved more packs into the stack."I think you do.""Well, I don't care what you think!" she said angrily, whirling about to find an empty hold.In his rooms on the Finalizer, a galaxy away, Kylo Ren stared at the wall and clenched his right hand into a fist.An inch. A million light-years. It's all the same if you never touch.





	salt and honey

**Author's Note:**

> Kylo Ren and Rey learn to navigate the Force bond, and each other. Fairly slow burn: features sexual tension, touch issues, awkward encounters, a cheap motel on Polis Massa, and Kylo Ren being a shaky mess of a human being. 
> 
> This is a very late birthday gift for my wonderful friend Alex who is honestly the loveliest person I know and who deserves every nice thing in this world. She wanted "Force bond smut" and by God she's getting Force bond smut. I LOVE YOU IF YOU'RE READING THIS AT 6 AM YOU BETTER GO BACK TO SLEEP!!!
> 
> Prompts/requests are open on my tumblr @urulokid. Anon is enabled. Go forth.

It wasn't like Rey had expected the Force to just… _turn off_.

But she was a bit surprised that whatever had been dragging her and Kylo Ren face-to-face across light-years of space and time hadn't gotten the memo that he had chosen his side, and she had chosen hers.

Then again, the Force was an impartial energy of no conscious movement, so maybe she was going to have to spend the rest of her life looking over her shoulder for the ghost of a man she had failed.

For instance, like right now.

"Snoke must have been lying," said Kylo, his voice and face as unperturbed as ever. "Otherwise this wouldn't still be happening. Can you see my surroundings at all this time?"

"Can we please not do this?" Rey ground out through her teeth. "I have a job to do."

"Oh, I'm sure you do." He narrowed his eyes.

"Don't you have a job to do?" she prodded, stacking the ration-packs into a pile in the hold of the Falcon. "Something like, I don't know, being an evil dictator after you killed your master?"

"I didn't kill Snoke to take his place," Kylo said. "I killed him for you."

Rey paused at that, her hands still in the crate of dehydrated rations. "I don't care," she told him, and shoved more packs into the stack.

"I think you do."

"Well, I don't _care_ what you think!" she said angrily, whirling about to find an empty hold.

In his rooms on the _Finalizer_ , a galaxy away, Kylo Ren stared at the wall and clenched his right hand into a fist.

 

* * *

 

The next day, Rey was dragging herself into the 'fresher for a sonic shower and at least five solid hours of sleep in the shared bunk when she sensed the soft _shift_ in the Force that signified Kylo Ren's presence.

She whirled around and clapped her shirt to her front, yanking down the hem until it reached past her hips. "Karking _hell!_ "

Kylo didn't even seem to realize she was naked. "Bad time?"

"I'll say. Can you just—" Rey was hot to the ears, and knew she was blushing. "Turn around or close your eyes or something."

His eyes flickered down once, over her bare legs, and quickly back up to her face before he acknowledged her request with a little nod and turned his face away.

Rey retreated into the fresher and flipped the switch, feeling very much as if her skin was crawling. He was _huge_ , his frame filling half the tiny room. The cloak probably made him look bigger, but he was not a small person to begin with.

The sonic waves cleared the sweat and dirt from her body, and she opened the sliding door a crack to see him still there, staring at the wall studiously. "I'm stepping out now," she informed him, and slipped out, grabbing the threadbare dressing robe someone had offered as a communal item and wrapping it tightly around her body. The hem only fell to her upper thigh, and she felt almost more naked with it on.

Kylo turned as she tied it shut, and gave her a once-over. "Decent, I see."

"Ha-ha," she said dryly. "How's life as the Supreme Leader?"

"Boring," he said after considering the question.

"Regretting your decision, perhaps?" She crossed her arms.

He glared at her. "I have no comment on the matter."

"Well, don't worry," Rey said, heated. "Maybe you'll get the opportunity to complete the Family-Killing Trifecta. First your father, then your uncle, then—"

"Shut _up_ ," he seethed, and she backed up fairly quickly, her back against the shower door, and hoped he couldn't touch her through the bond. "You have no _idea_ what—"

"What it's like to murder your family members?" Rey snapped, unable to stop herself. "You're right, I don't. Please enlighten me."

He wasn't listening. His eyes were traveling across the way she was pressed to the door. "You're against a wall," he said. "Aren't you?"

"The—" Rey was taken aback at his mood change. "Fresher door. Why?"

He was silent, his face unreadable. "I'm not going to kill my mother," he said after a pause. "And I'm not going to hurt you. I don't think I can, in any case—through this, but even if I could, I wouldn't."

"How very romantic," she said sarcastically, but in spite of herself she wondered if he could touch her after all.

"You don't have to be afraid of me," he said. "You are, I know. But you don't have to be."

Rey, startled at this, opened her mouth to answer, but another small shift in the Force made her ears pop, and he was gone.

 

* * *

 

She woke up after three hours of sleep, and he was there.

Startled, she kept herself from crying out and waking up the other four people sleeping in the room, but he was there: sitting on the edge of her bunk and watching her.

Rey sat up and his eyes followed her. "You're up," he said softly.

She rolled her eyes, activated the tiny glowlamp set in her bunk, and mouthed at him with a liberal amount of clumsy sign language, _Other people in here. Sleeping. What do you want?_

He shrugged. "I don't want anything. The Force connected us five minutes ago. You were asleep, so I sat here."

Rey frowned. _Where are you right now?_

"I'm in my rooms. You appear to be sleeping in my bed." She flushed at the idea. "It looks comfortable. And I wasn't going to climb into bed with you while you were asleep—although, you're not really in my bed, are you?"

She fought to keep silent. Kaydel Ko Connix was snoring lightly across the room. The absolute idea—the very thought! Indignation rose in her throat.

"I thought it was the polite thing to do. You don't seem very happy about it." She caught a glint in his eye, and the tiniest quirk at the corner of his mouth—he was teasing her. _Teasing_ her. He thought this was funny.

 _If you appear in my bed,_ she mouthed furiously, _I'm going to kick you out._

"I don't think we can kick each other through the bond," he said, perfectly and maddeningly reasonable. His gloved hands gestured at the bed. "May I? I have a long day tomorrow of meetings. You know. General evil dictator things to do, people to see, cuddly creatures to kick. I'd like to use my own bed."

Rey glared at him. Of course he wasn't really in her bed, nor was he going to be. _Fine_ , she mouthed, and lay down, thumbing the light off and rolling to her side, as far away from the edge as she could, her nose nearly touching the wall.

She could hear him undressing, clothing dropping to the floor, and felt the bed dip and move as he climbed in. _He's not really there. He's not there._ Rey's teeth bit into her bottom lip as she felt his body heat radiating out toward her, under the blankets. _He's not real._

"Good night," he whispered, hot and close to her ear, and she closed her eyes, fighting a shiver. After a minute, she turned her head to look, but he was gone, the bunk empty. She rolled over and touched the sleeping pad where he had been, and it was warm.

 

* * *

 

Rey didn't experience another Force-bond with Kylo Ren for another full day. She was back down in the hold, counting out supplies and weapons while they charted a course to some planet Rey had never heard of called Naboo when the shift came and she found herself looking at him yet again.

He was dressed differently. Still in all black, but with silver accents: a new tunic and one-shouldered cloak fastened with a brooch in the shape of the First Order symbol.

"You look terrible," she said, hefting another crate of blasters up to stack and putting her hands on her hips.

"What, you don't like the cape?"

"Your face," she amended. It was true, his eyes were red-rimmed and he had dark circles, like bruises, under them. "You look like you haven't slept in a week."

He ignored her observation. "I see they have you on cargo duty."

"We're all pitching in and doing everything," she said. "I'm not complaining. Gives me something to do."

"You'd be useful on the _Finalizer_ ," he said, too casually. "Force knows I have enough to do as it is."

"I'm not joining you," she said, slamming another crate into place. "Don't ask me again."

"Or what?" He stepped closer.

"I'll—" She gritted her teeth and turned around to face him. "I'll think of something," she ended lamely.

"I'll eagerly await it," he told her. "In the meantime, why don't we think of something to talk about?"

"I don’t want to talk to you." Rey picked up another crate and set it down, counting the blasters and logging them on her datapad.

"What if I told you where our fleet is?" he coaxed.

Rey paused at that and set her datapad down. "What?"

"In return, of course, for some information of your own." He sat down on a crate and spread his legs, arms out awkwardly as if resting them on something invisible.

"I'm not giving you information about the Resistance," she said sharply. "And you're sitting on a crate right now, so your arms look really stupid."

"Oh." He blinked. "I'm currently on the _Supremacy,_ sitting on the throne."

"So I'm standing in the throne room?" Rey remembered the fight, the fire raining down, and felt oddly as if she was in the wrong place, or just to the left of her own center. "They rebuilt it?"

"Yes. I redesigned it. None of that red nonsense. It's all black and silver. I left the walls open so I can see into space." He brought one foot up to rest on his other knee and leaned over, resting his chin on his hand. "Nobody here appreciates the view."

"Tragic," she said. "You still look like an idiot on a crate. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to doing a real job."

"What if I give you a hint? Outer Rim?" He was still needling at her, trying to get her to play his stupid game.

"Why don't you take _my_ hint and shut up?" Rey hoisted the crate and shoved it into the stack. "And get off my blasters, I have to log those."

He stood up and she bent and snatched up the box before getting a little light-headed and slipping to one knee, still holding the heavy box.

"Rey!" he said, alarmed, and reached down, grasping her arm over the wraps.

"I'm fine," she said, exasperated, but feeling sick. "We're all on quarter-portions." She got her foot beneath her and pushed up as he pulled her gently to her feet, and set the crate aside, placing both her hands on the worktable and bending her head down to get her breath. "Some of us are actually making sacrifices for the things we care about."

That was a low blow, but Kylo Ren didn't seem to care. "How many of you are on board?"

"Twenty-something. Not a lot. We'll probably run out of food before we reach Naboo." She bit her lip, realizing she'd just given him information.

"I'll take care of it." He released her arm and backed away a step, looking concerned and slightly conflicted, and before she could breathe again he was gone, the connection severed.

It wasn't until she was heading back to the main hold for food that she realized he'd touched her, been able to touch her through the bond, and her skin tingled, the imprint of an unseen hand on her arm.

 

* * *

 

"You can touch me," she told him, behind the stack of crates she had tucked herself among for the night.

That hung in the air for a bit while Kylo Ren considered it. He was dressed for bed, black sleepwear and a robe tied around his waist. Even in sleep, he kept himself swathed in layers of black, she thought. He was sitting on the floor next to her, crowded in the small space behind the crates of blasters.

"Is that a problem?" he asked.

"I don't know, is it?"

"I mean—do you want me to touch you?"

Rey yanked her knees up to her chest. She opened her mouth to deliver a scathing _NO!_ or maybe a _Don’t even think about it_ or possibly a _I'd rather fling myself into space without a pressure suit_ but what came out was "I don't know!"

"You don't know," he repeated, tilting his head. "Interesting answer."

"The last time you touched me, we both had visions that turned out to be lies." Rey tucked her hands between her thighs and squeezed. "And that got people killed. Because we acted on them. You know. Like idiots."

"Snoke engineered the visions."

"Snoke _said_ he engineered the visions," she corrected him. "Snoke also said he made the bond. Snoke is dead, and we're still bound through the Force. So I assume he lied about the visions too."

"Or he took advantage of something that already existed." Kylo examined his own hands. "We won't know until we try. Don't you want to know what the truth is?"

Rey struggled internally. Yes, of course she did want to know. But touching him—even hand to hand—

She set her jaw and held her hand up, palm facing him. "All right. Do it."

Kylo regarded her hand for a moment, then brought his own hand up slowly, carefully, and pressed it against hers. His fingers were massive, blunt and thick, his warm hand dwarfing hers in size and trembling ever so slightly. _He's afraid, too_ , she thought.

No vision came over her. Nothing. They were only sitting face to face on the floor of the cargo hold, hands pressed together. "Do you see anything?" she asked tentatively.

"No," he said, almost sounding shocked. "Nothing. Just you."

She should have said _well that’s that_ and dropped his hand. She should have pulled away.

Instead she did the opposite and shifted her hand so that her fingers locked into his, clutching down on his knuckles. "Please. Come back," she said.

He froze, sitting there with his hand reflexively tightening around hers. "I can't. I've made my choice. You've made yours."

"If you're going to try to persuade me to join you, there's no reason I shouldn't do the same," she insisted.

Kylo yanked his hand away and flexed it as if she had scorched him. "Don't," he said.

Rey looked away, her eyes filling with unwanted tears. "I’m sorry," she whispered, and closed her eyes, letting them spill down her face.

An unexpected touch on her face made her jump, and Kylo Ren's finger nearly stabbed her in the eye. "Sorry," he said quickly, wiping at her cheeks with a thumb. "I didn't mean—"

"No, it's all right—" she began at the same time, and laughed when he paused, perplexed. "You talk, then me."

He lifted the corner of his mouth in the closest thing she'd seen yet to a smile, and just as he opened his mouth the bond fizzled out, and Rey was alone behind the crates with only the ghost of a touch on her cheek to remember him by.

 

* * *

 

The day after that, as they had stopped at Polis Massa to refuel, some cargo tech had come up with a massive crate of rations and insisted that they had ordered them.

"But we didn't order that," said Leia patiently. "We can't afford to pay for them."

"You did, ma'am. All paid for. Supervisor says you have to take them. Here's the manifest and the order number."

Leia had taken a look at her tiny Resistance, their faces pinched and hungry, and decided that she would ask no more questions. She signed for the delivery and ordered everyone off ship for twenty-four hours while maintenance worked on the Falcon.

Everyone got double rations that night, bunkered down in the housing hub, and Rey kept to herself, sitting in her private, tiny room, the domed ceiling open to the stars above.

A bed, a tiny table, and space enough for her to stand, with an attached fresher. She stretched out on the bed, the luxury unthinkable. She was clean and dry from her shower and wearing a nice-smelling short sleeping gown and she could _roll over_ in this bed. It had sheets and a thick blanket and pillows, and didn't smell like a Wookie. Rey closed her eyes and sighed.

"Looks comfortable," said Kylo Ren.

She didn't bother opening her eyes. "It is. Am I in your bed again?"

"Yes." He didn't elaborate, and she opened her eyes, then immediately choked and looked directly up at the dome.

"You're _naked_ ," she hissed, scarlet to her hairline.

"What, you want me to shower in full clothes?"

"Put on a towel or something!"

"I'll only be a minute," he said, and turned around. By whatever stroke of fate, it seemed that the placement of her fresher, here on Polis Massa, and his fresher, somewhere lightyears away in his quarters on the _Supremacy,_ lined up perfectly. He stepped into her fresher, and she heard water running, but her fresher pipes stayed quite silent.

Rey concentrated on breathing. In and out. In and out. She hadn't seen much. He'd been standing sideways, facing the fresher, and she'd seen his thick arms and the curve of his backside before immediately realizing he was nude and looking away. She supposed she should have expected it to happen at some point, but it was still a bit of a shock. Quickly, Rey sat up on the bed and drew her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them.

Kylo emerged halfway from the fresher, dry and clean, a flush still on his chest from the heat of the water. Thankfully, he was holding his hand in front of his crotch. "Can I come out?" he asked.

Rey almost swallowed her own tongue. She couldn't stop looking at the planes of his body, the thick muscles of his legs, his arms, his chest. _Yes, come out,_ she wanted to say. _Come out and let me look at you._ "Sure," she croaked instead.

He entered the room slowly, eyeing her as if she was a small animal he was trying not to frighten. "Sorry about that," he muttered, and reached out, taking a robe from somewhere she couldn't see and slipping it over his shoulders, tying it quickly around his waist.

"Don't," she said, and covered her mouth in shock at her own words.

Kylo froze, halfway through tying his robe, and just looked at her.

Rey's tongue felt heavy, her heart pounding in her ears, and there was warmth spreading between her legs. "I want," she managed, and closed her eyes again, looking down. "I. I'm sorry."

"Tell me," he said, his voice low and even. He didn't move, just stood there. "Tell me what you want."

Rey took a deep breath and slid off the bed, walking over to where he stood at the foot. He still didn't move, just watched her cautiously as she approached, until the distance was closed and a bare inch stood between them.

An inch. A million light-years.

It was all the same thing, as long as you never touched.

Rey's hand reached up and she carefully tucked a loose lock of hair out of his face where it had fallen. His hair was soft, dark and clean and shining, and she wanted to bury her hands in it, stroke it. Kylo's chest moved with his breathing, and she looked down, seeing the scars that littered his chest, his arms, his shoulders. Without thinking, she moved her hand up to touch the crater of puckered flesh on his right shoulder, and quick as a vine-snake, his hand darted up and caught her wrist, just before her fingers made contact.

His hands were shaking. She looked at him, and she waited.

Slowly, he released her wrist, and her fingertips traced the scar there, following the curve of his massive shoulder down to his collarbone, across his chest to push the robe off his other shoulder and expose the scar she had left on him.

Starkiller. It seemed so long ago, so far away. Her other hand rose to touch the scar on his face, and he caught her wrist again, flustered. "I—" he shook his head, looked at her hand, and let go. "I didn't—it's not—never mind," he said, trying his hardest to pretend he didn't give a damn that she was an inch from his face.

Rey carefully, delicately touched his scarred cheek, and Kylo's throat moved visibly as he swallowed. His hand came up to cover hers, and trembling, jerked her hand away from his skin and out to the side.

Which, of course, had the unintended effect of pulling her flush against him, skin separated only by the thin cloth of Rey's nightgown and the folds of Kylo's robe.

"Rey," he said, voice sounding very fragile.

Seized by a terrible fear that the bond would dissipate, Rey brought her free right arm up and wrapped it around his neck in a half-embrace, her other hand still trapped in the shaking vise of his right hand. "Don't go," she whispered. "Please, don't go."

He released her hand and for a horrible second she thought he was going to shove her away, but his arms came up and tightened around her back slowly, as if he had forgotten how to hug and was afraid he might do it wrong. "Did you—the food?"

"Yes, it came," she said into his neck. "Thank you. Your mother was very confused."

"As long as she accepted it. Nobody needs to know where it came from."

"I won't tell a soul you have a heart," she promised, pulling back to look up at him. "Not a word. Your secret is safe with me."

Kylo rolled his eyes and looked down at her. "Good."

Rey smiled. "I don't suppose you want to go to bed."

Shock crossed his features for a brief second before he composed himself. "Bed. Yes. Of course. Not—you mean sleeping."

"What on earth else could I possibly mean?" she deadpanned, turning and crawling up the length of the bed from the foot to the head, making sure to wiggle her backside just enough so that when she stole a glimpse over her shoulder, he was staring, jaw clenched. "What _else_ does one do in a bed?"

"You're teasing me," he said shortly.

"Yes, I am," she said, rolling onto her side and propping herself up. "And who knows how long the connection will last. Anything you want to get off your mind?"

He blinked, then quickly climbed up onto the bed and settled down beside her, mirroring her pose. "I don't want you to disappear," he said quickly. "I—it's lonely. You're the only interesting part of my day."

"I don't want you to go either," she said. "As irritating as it is when you pop up and scare the daylights out of me in close quarters." His mouth quirked in the expression she recognized as "close to a smile" and he moved his hand, lying down on the bed at length.

Rey looked down at him. "Where did you get that one?" she asked, pointing at a scar on his arm.

"Training with the Praets," he said, closing his eyes.

"What about this one?" She touched his shoulder, and a little shiver went through him.

"Saber," he managed. 

"And…" she traced the bowcaster scar on his waist, and he convulsed and rolled over, away from her.

"You know that one," he said darkly, and she reached out to apologize, to say she didn't mean it, but her hand went right through the space he had been occupying and he was gone, not even a dent left in the bed.

 

* * *

 

Leia managed to haggle for a second ship on Polis Massa. It was an ancient, rickety little freighter, but it would get them to Naboo. Poe was placed in charge of the thing, which they officially called the _Holdo_ , and privately called That Rust Bucket. Half the remaining Resistance boarded it, which left Rey with Leia, Connix, a few other ground crew members and engineers, and Threepio and Artoo on the Falcon.

At least she could be alone more often.

The next time she encountered Kylo Ren, she was in the sleeping quarters, trying to shove a box under the main bed.

"You know I can feel you standing there," she said dryly.

"I know," he responded. She pulled out and stood up, wiping her hair out of her eyes. He looked even more exhausted than usual, and a faint shadow of stubble was beginning to grow in, darkening his upper lip and chin. "How…is everything?"

It was like he didn't even know how to ask perfectly normal social questions. Rey tilted her head. "Fine. We have a second ship now. Still en route to Naboo, in case you care."

He considered that. "We're making plans to secure trade routes and hyperspace lanes. You've sort of taken a back shelf. I've…convinced Hux that this is a better train of action."

Rey blinked. "Oh. That's…thank you. Very much. I'll—I'll tell the General."

"If you can figure out a way to tell her that isn't 'I'm seeing visions of your wayward son'." Kylo sat down on the other bunk. "And you're welcome."

Rey hesitated for a moment, then sat next to him, not quite close enough to be touching, but close enough that he stiffened, on his guard. "Are you helping us because of me, or because it's the right thing to do?"

"I'm not—" he began, and cut himself off. "I am _not_ going to answer that."

Very gently, Rey reached out and laid a hand on his knee. He went very still. "It's just me," she said.

"That." He swallowed and closed his eyes. "Is why. I am not. Answering."

"Fine," she said sharply, and yanked her hand off his leg. "Act like a child all you like, you—you—" She couldn't think of a word strong enough to use, and spluttered for a moment before shoving him in the shoulder. He barely moved, a mass of solid muscle, and she shoved herself to her feet angrily.

Kylo's gloved hand shot out and snatched her arm. "Don't," he said, an edge in his voice she wasn't sure she entirely disliked. "Please."

"Let go of me," Rey hissed, but she was turning, and her hand was clamping down on his wrist, and with one step she was standing between his thighs, and he was looking up at her with his lips parted as if he was going to say something. His fingers loosened and slipped off her arm, and she let go of his wrist and pressed her hands to his jaw, thumbs brushing his cheeks, and she had just enough time to think _oh no_ before he was reaching up, cupping her face in his hand, and their faces were so close—

He closed the gap and kissed her hard, wide lips pressed to hers in a dry little peck. Rey jerked away in shock, her mouth open and her cheeks flushed. "What are you _doing_?" she squeaked.

"I—" He looked half-stunned, and incredibly uncomfortable. "I'm sorry—I thought—"

"Idiot," she snapped, and leaned back in, covering his mouth with hers, open and wet and soft, and he shuddered and groaned beneath her, one large hand clutching her shirt in a wad at her waist. Her teeth found his bottom lip and he made a wretched little noise before she let him go and kissed over it, her tongue slipping past her lips and across his bottom lip until he was clutching her with both hands and shaking.

Rey released him, her forehead pressed to his. " _That_ ," she breathed, "is how you kiss somebody."

He reached down and grabbed her by the knees, pulling her up onto his lap so that she straddled him. "You," he said, sounding strained, and found her mouth again, his tongue and teeth and lips roughly moving as she tried to keep up with him. "Rey. _Rey_."

She rocked her hips forward, trying to get a more comfortable angle, and pressed against something unexpected.

Or maybe it was completely expected.

Kylo Ren groaned and buried his forehead in her neck. "Don't touch that," he panted, his hair in his face as he fumbled for the tie on her shirt that held it closed.

"But—"

"I said don't. Touch. That." He stripped off her shirt and stared at her breasts. "Can I—"

She took his hand and pressed it to her left breast, and he closed his eyes like it was the best gift anyone had ever given him. His fingers curved up and lifted, pressed, squeezed gently; then the other hand followed suit and Rey muffled a squeak as his big fingers closed on her nipple.

"Rey? You all right in there?"

Rey's eyes flew open just as Kylo's did—he must have heard it through the bond—and she slapped her hand over Kylo's mouth. "I'm fine," she called out, trying to sound normal. It was Finn; he'd stayed on board because Rose Tico was still recovering and needed the medical services— "Just don't come in here yet, I have a bunch of stuff in front of the door—"

Kylo dodged her hand. His teeth closed on her nipple, and her free hand tightened in his hair as she fought to not shriek.

"Oh, okay. Thought I heard you yell."

"A porg got into the wall and made a nest," she managed. "Startled me. I've got it under control."

"Okay. See ya around." Finn's footsteps receded and Rey shoved Kylo against the wall of the bunk. Or at least she tried to: he was entirely immovable and focused on her breasts.

"You kriffing—"

"Can I—" He looked up at her, his hair soft against her chest. "I want you to come." To illustrate, he rubbed his fingers gently against the juncture of her thighs, and Rey shuddered and tightened her grip in his hair.

"Yes," she said, when she could breathe. "Yes. Before I change my mind, hurry."

In short order, he put her on the bunk with her legs dangling over the edge, and pulled her pants down just far enough to expose her to the air, then crouched between her thighs, pulled his glove off, and gently, gently pressed his fingers into her soft, wet tissues.

Rey groaned and stuffed a hand into her mouth, rocking against his fingers. Force, his hands were big. His thumb worked at her clit as his wrist began to pump gently in and out, two fingers nearly filling her up.

Nearly.

"Give me another finger," she hissed, and he obeyed, slipping in a third finger as she stifled a groan and her toes curled.

"Like that," he said, watching her almost hungrily.

" _Kark,_ " she spit, and clenched down on his fingers, panting. "Yes, like that. Keep doing that. Don't stop."

He did as she asked, one gloved hand still on her bare upper thigh. Her pants were keeping her from moving her legs much, but she didn't care, and hung her head forward, inches from his face as she panted and bared her teeth in concentration.

"You're close," he observed, watching the flush creep up her neck and sweat break out on her forehead.

Rey let out an inarticulate noise and came, clamped down around his fingers so tightly that he grimaced, unable to move them. "Nuuhhhh," she groaned, and slumped forward, head pressed to Kylo's. "Yeah. That. That was. Good."

"Good," he echoed, and carefully lifted her up and moved her so that she was lying down on her back. "Porg making a nest." He chuckled and pulled her pants back up,  clasped them a little clumsily, then closed her shirt after one subtle last glance at her breasts. "I'll see you again soon."

Rey reached out and touched his arm. "Next time," she said, and he was gone like a bad holo, her hand falling down to the sleeping pad.

* * *

 

Kylo Ren stepped into his quarters on the _Supremacy_ and thumbed the door lock shut. It hissed shut behind him, effectively sealing him into his expansive rooms.

He'd taken to glancing at the bed first thing every time he entered, just to see if Rey was there or not. Although, he thought, she wasn't really _there_ , she was nearing Naboo and he was on the other side of the galaxy drifting around some system he didn't care enough about to remember. Mostly because Rey wasn't near it.

He took off his cloak and draped it across the back of a chair, sitting down and stretching his long legs out. Distraction. That was what she was. A very welcome distraction, to be sure, but if he was going to focus on the track he'd chosen he certainly couldn't continue down this line of action. Petting was one thing: intercourse was another.

 _It's not like anyone could prove I was fraternizing with the enemy_ , he thought. _Technically, anyway._

But no, it had to stop. He kept finding himself compromised at every turn, remembering how her breasts had looked, bouncing up and down as he had fingered her on the edge of his bed, and springing a massive erection in the middle of boring meetings, conferences, or conversations with his subordinates. It was only a matter of time until he had to do something in public and made an idiot out of himself.

 _Or you could just switch to wearing robes full-time_ , he thought, and scowled.

"What's eating you?" asked Rey, and he jumped, startled. He hadn’t noticed the connection crackling to life in that strange way it did.

"I—" He stared at her in frank astonishment and let his mouth hang open. "Where are your clothes?"

Rey shrugged and stretched, her naked, lean form long and planed with fine muscle. "Washing. I'm just sitting in my bunk. Nobody's going to disturb me for a while."

Kylo's mouth went very dry, and he completely forgot that seconds before he had been resolutely telling himself that he absolutely, one hundred percent, could not engage in full-on sexual relations with Rey. "Really," he said.

"Yep." She popped the P, and sat on his bed, looking at him. "So. What do you want to do?"

He swallowed very slowly. His cock was full already, pushing at his pants, insistent and almost painfully hard. _I want to bend you over and pump you full of my cock. I want to do it on the floor, the bed, the wall, everywhere. I want—_

Kylo, in a very low and controlled voice, said, "What do _you_ want to do?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Go to bed with you. If that's what you want."

He let his tongue flick out and lick his bottom lip, and her eyes followed the movement. She squirmed slightly, and he stood, approaching the bed.

"You want that," he said. "You want to go to bed with me. Me."

"Yes." She met his eyes. "I'm perfectly clean and I'm using contraceptives. Now get down here and kiss me."

Kylo Ren wasn't an idiot, and he wasn't completely unversed in the mechanics of sex. His entire experience as a child and a teenager had included a very awkward talk about mechanics with his father, then a few stealthy kissing games at night at Luke's school (he'd participated in exactly one game and almost died on the spot of embarrassment, and thereafter kept to his hut), and after—well, after, there had been a lot of talk with Snoke about discipline and keeping one's head clear and not letting distractions lure one from the path of the Dark, but it had been clear that if he felt he needed that sort of base release, he was encouraged to find an outlet that was discreet and did not reflect badly on the First Order. He never had. Just knowing that Snoke could see into his mind was enough of a deterrent for him to never, ever even come close to touching himself, and unwelcome morning erections were stonily dealt with under cold showers.

Junior officers mentioned things like strip clubs and brothels when they went on shore leave. Kylo Ren had never once frequented any such place. Hux thought very badly of sex work in general and sneered and spat a lot behind their backs when the other officers would return. Kylo Ren privately thought that maybe what Hux really needed was a good hard jerking off, just so the man would lighten the hell up.

In any case, he wasn't an idiot, but he was also very, very nervous, and his guard was up. He bent down to kiss Rey, and her mouth tasted like salt and honey and something indefinably sweet, something that was just _Rey_ , and some of the nervousness melted away.

"Can I touch you?" she asked, breaking away, her forehead pressed to his.

He hesitated. Clearly, she was one for boundaries. Good. "Through my pants. Yes."

Her hand crept slowly between his legs and pressed gently, feeling the outline of him, hard and heavy against his thigh, and he closed his eyes and silently begged the Force to please, please not let him come in his pants. "Kriff me," she muttered, fingers tracing him. "It's like duracrete."

"I," said Kylo Ren, trying to remember how to speak. "I don't. I haven't. Done this."

"Ever?" she asked.

"Ever," he affirmed.

"That's all right, I know how." She gave him a gentle squeeze and he fought to control himself, breathing very firmly through his nose. "Don't be afraid."

"I’m trying," he said. "Stop touching me."

Rey took her hand off him and moved her hands to her lap. His brain cleared, very slowly. "Should I just roll over and let you…" She motioned rather crudely.

"No." He dragged a hand down his face. "I—it's complicated. I want you to touch—you can touch the rest of me. Not that. I want—" Kylo fought to work through what exactly he wanted, because it seemed like a lot of it was contradictory and complicated and he didn't even know what he was doing, what the hell was he bothering with this, it was _not_  his field of expertise and—

Rey cupped his hand with her cheek, and his thoughts all stopped, merging into one big Thought, and that Thought was just _Rey_.

"One step at a time," she said. "Come here. Lie down on your back."

He did as she said, stretching out his long frame, open in a way that almost felt more exposed than being naked. Rey reached over and undid the clasps on his tunic, pulling it open, and the touch of her small, calloused hand on his skin was like honey, softer and smoother than anything. He clenched his hands into fists and tried to breathe as she traced the lines of his hips down to his waistband, but relaxed minutely when her fingers drifted back up to brush across his ribs.

At her gentle tugging, he sat up and shucked off his shirt, and she slowly crawled forward, onto him, her thigh a firm weight against his swollen cock that he fought to not rut up against. She kissed him, slow and gentle, and moved down his throat to his collarbones to his chest, and he groaned when her tongue flicked over his nipples.

"Take your boots off," she whispered, and he sat up and did, then caught her around her naked waist and kissed her on impulse, her mouth open to his, slick and hot. "Ren," she whispered, and he rather liked her calling him that.

"I'm taking off my pants," he told her, and shucked them off, awkwardly dumping them in a heap at the foot of the bed and hesitating before hooking his thumbs in the waistband of his black basis, letting his dick spring free and flinging the things over the edge of the bed.

Rey stared. "Ah," she said, almost hungrily. "All right, how are we doing this?"

"I thought you said you knew how to do it," he said, fighting the urge to shield his crotch from view.

"People like different methods." She shrugged, her hair falling over her freckled shoulder. "I think, since you haven't done this yet, I should probably be on top."

"Whatever you say, you're the expert," he said dryly, and she laughed.

"I am not. Sit up against something, get your back supported. I'm going to straddle you and _not touch you_ with my hands. Is that acceptable?"

"That's acceptable," he said stiffly, and backed up against the headboard, shoving some pillows behind him. "Like this?"

"Perfect. All right, hold still." She swung one leg across his lap, her hands firmly on his shoulders, and settled down, the crux of her legs just at the base of his cock, so close he could feel her heat, but not touching him. "You tell me when you're ready, and I'll start moving."

He struggled to ground himself and took a few deep breaths. "Move."

Slowly, she canted her hips up, her hot, wet folds slipping across his length in one smooth movement.

He was barely conscious of what happened next. He let out a shout, his hips jerked upward, and his fingers dug into her waist as he yanked her close and held her in place, face buried in her neck, his whole body shaking as his cock throbbed and spilled hot, wet seed across his belly.

Shame quickly filled the space left as his orgasm receded. He hadn't even been _inside_ her and he'd come, barely touched, like some kriffing _teenager_ , he couldn't look her in the face again, he'd ruined everything. Best to just fling himself out an airlock and be done with the whole miserable business of his life.

"Hey," said Rey gently, and he couldn't even acknowledge her. "Breathe. It's okay."

He tried to breathe, and his pulse slowed minutely. "I’m so—I'm sorry—"

"When was the last time you, uh…" She petted at his shoulder, slow smooth strokes. "Came?"

"Years. I don't—it's not—" He couldn't explain this to her. He hoped that was enough.

"Okay. So your nervous system isn't used to this kind of stimulation. That's normal. You're wound up. And you're still hard, if you noticed. We can try again when you're ready."

He could have cried out of gratitude. There wasn't any pity in her voice at all, or anger, or frustration. Just kindness, and that was enough. "Okay." His hands found hers, and he squeezed gently, trying to convey his emotions without words. "I think I can go again."

"All right. You tell me when." She kissed his forehead and leaned back, her hands still planted on his shoulders.

He inhaled deeply, and clenched his jaw. "All right. Now."

She repeated the gentle motion, and he groaned, but didn't come, thank the Force. Her wet folds were slipping over him, back and forth, slow enough so that he couldn't catch a rhythm, but quick enough to make his breath come short and tight.

"You're wet," he managed, one eye open.

"I just saw you come," she told him, flushing a little. "It was kind of hot, okay?"

She thought it was _hot_. She, Rey, thought it was _hot_ that he'd come all over himself, barely touched, like some repressed moron. Kylo Ren's arms slipped beneath hers and he spread his hands across her back.

"Let me inside you," he ordered, his voice gone down an octave and slightly hoarse. "Now."

She canted her hips to the very tip, wiggled back and forth slightly to get him locked into place, and slowly, carefully slid back down on his cock.

The edges of his vision blurred and he dug his blunted nails into her back as his dick pushed into her smooth, hot, wet walls. "Rey," he choked.

"Easy," she gasped, and inched down further. "Kark me, you're thick. Give me a mo—"

" _Rey_ ," he whined, and clutched at her as she finally, finally bottomed out, flush against him and filled to the brim.

"Okay," she said, and she was panting, her cheeks flushed beautifully. "Okay. Give it a minute before I start moving. You're. You're." She pressed a hand to her abdomen and groaned. "Huge."

He tried to swallow and found he couldn't. Everything in his whole body had rushed to the place where they were joined, and his balls were aching, and he thought he might die if he started moving in her but he also thought if he didn't start moving he was going to spontaneously combust of frustration on the spot. Both his hands slipped up to the back of her neck, burying themselves in her hair.

"If you disappear," he rasped, trying to get his mouth to work, "I am going to kill everyone on this _fucking_ ship and then I'm going to commandeer a shuttle and fly to you—wherever the fuck you are, and I don't care if the whole _galaxy_ can see, I'm ripping your clothes off and taking you on the first. Surface. I. See."

Rey looked down at him, all swollen lips and glassy eyes with pupils dilated so widely they were black, and began to move her hips. "That's a new word," she panted.

"Picked it up off—Corellia— _oh_ ," he moaned. "Don't stop. Please."

"I won't," she managed, and her grip on his shoulders tightened. "I won't. I'm—" She grimaced. He felt her tighten around him, impossibly strong, and she was making a noise entirely different from the noise she'd made when he'd used his fingers (he found himself wondering exactly how many noises she was capable of making and if he had time to discover them all) and before he knew what was happening she was coming, clamped around his cock and grinding down on his body before going limp and falling forward onto him, full on his chest, hands curled under her chin.

"Rey," he said softly. She was light, a good forty kilos lighter than he was, and he stroked her back, unable to stop himself from thrusting up into her. "Is this—is—are you—"

"Do it," she mumbled. "Don't stop until you're done. Feels good."

He pressed a hand to the base of her spine to hold her steady and thrust four more times before coming again, spilling himself into her slick hot body, and shuddering through it as he held her close.

As it ebbed away, he kept holding her tight, fingers stroking down the length of her finely muscled back. "You awake?"

She made a half-awake noise which he took to mean _yes, but not for long_. Kylo closed his eyes and pressed his nose to her hair, willing himself to remember how she smelled, how she felt, the weight of her in his arms.

"I think," he whispered to her, "I may have made the wrong choice."

She stirred, and his arms and bed were suddenly empty, his stomach and softening dick smeared with drying come.

* * *

Thousands of lightyears away, Rey's torso dropped from two feet in the air and crashed into her own bunk. She bashed her head on the wall and cursing under her breath as she sat up, rudely startled out of her post coital bliss.

There was a knock on the door. "Your clothes are clean!" called Connix. "Open the door a crack and I'll shove them at you."

Rey staggered to her feet. "Thanks, Lieutenant," she told the woman, and took the clothes gratefully.

Once the door was securely locked again, she waddled to the fresher and grabbed sanitary paper, holding it between her legs as the result of her tryst lost the battle against gravity. _Fluid can be transferred across the bond,_ she thought. _Huh._

She checked in the mirror and was secretly a little pleased to see the red lines across her back and the marks on her waist. Maybe next time she'd leave him with a few marks of her own.

Another warm gushy feeling sent a nasty creeping feeling up her spine. "To hell with the Force," she muttered, and grabbed another wad of tissue.


End file.
